


Cracks In the Shield

by FaygoMayhem



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chill XV, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gladio Is Not Okay, M/M, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 22:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12491820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaygoMayhem/pseuds/FaygoMayhem
Summary: Ignis blind, Prompto tortured, Noctis trapped.......Nothing is okay, and it's all Gladio's fault





	Cracks In the Shield

**Author's Note:**

> *peeks out from behind a bush*
> 
> So this started out as something completely different, then Gladio kinda fell down an emotional rabbit hole and I figured I owed it to the big guy to help dig him out since Squenix is absolutely useless in that regard. Now I have to go back and draft up the thing that I was supposed to be writing <<'.

Nothing was okay.

They had been fighting a losing battle from the start, but ever since Altissia the story of their lives had been nothing but a giant middle finger. Now their Prince had vanished and had taken the sun with him, and it was damn hard to believe that anything would ever be normal again. Still, they had no choice but to keep moving forward and make sure there was still a world left to save once Noct returned.

Prompto had left for Hammerhead soon after they had returned from Gralea. Whatever had happened after he’d been pushed off the train had left him with the inability to look anyone the eye, and all the carefree energy he had once possessed seemed to have been sapped from him. They had seen him off with fierce hugs and pleas to be careful, along with reminders that he always had a place with them should he decide to return. Gladio had almost been glad that Ignis was unable to see the fake smile on his face as he said his last goodbye.

After taking stake of the sorry state the world was in without sunlight, Gladio and Ignis had moved to Lestallum where the majority of the survivors had chosen to relocate. Ignis had been immediately drafted into the small group of people working around the clock to figure out the logistics of how to keep everyone alive while crammed into such a small area with limited resources. Ignis might not have been quite as capable as he once was since his injury, but he was still in possession of one of the greatest minds left on the planet and his strategic thinking was one of the only reasons so many were still left alive.

Gladio, by all accounts, should have been thriving. Survival was his forte, what he had been trained for since he was old enough to walk. He had easily thrown himself in with the other hunters to help dispatch daemons on the roads leading to the city so more people could make it in safely. It was no trouble for him to fall in with the teams of workers charged with using whatever materials they could find to set up temporary housing to help shoulder the burden of the ever-growing population. He put his name down for long expeditions to anywhere they could collect resources that could help them survive.

There was always something to do, and he never had to be stagnant any longer than he cared to be. All things considered, he should have been content. After all, he was the only one of the four to make it back from their journey with his mind and body still mostly unscathed. With all they had gone through, that should have been a triumph, but to Gladio it only felt like a failure.

He was the Shield, the protector, and it was his responsibility to take the hits meant for his King and the people he cared about. He should have been the one to be blinded, to be captured and tortured, to vanish while the rest of the world moved on. That he was left unharmed while his friends suffered only fueled his rage at their situation and had lead him to do and say terrible things, like trying to bully Noctis into wearing the Ring of the Lucii and trying to insist that Ignis stay behind even though it was sure to break his spirit and finish the job Ardyn had started.

He had been completely selfish, and it was still hard for him to look his closest friend and lover in the face and see the physical manifestation of everything he had failed to protect. The injury had caused a great rift in their relationship born from Ignis’ shame at his disfigurement and Gladio’s reluctance to accept affection after failing them all so miserably. He didn’t deserve Ignis’ love and had kept the other man at a careful distance since they had returned, no matter how much he longed to scoop him up in his arms and kiss both their pain away.

Ignis wasn’t sure what was wrong.  Though they shared a small room together at the Leville, the two of them hadn’t had more than a handful of short conversations, and their romance had gone quickly from a brightly burning inferno to a barely existent smolder, only kept alive by Ignis’ desperate attempts to fan it back to life. No matter how hard he tried, Gladio remained irresponsive to his tentative advances while they lied in bed together on the rare occasion they were home at the same time and hadn’t bothered trying to touch him more than giving him a chase kiss goodbye before leaving on missions that would have him gone for days or even weeks at a time.

Ignis couldn’t see, but it wasn’t hard to tell that he was now repulsive to one of the people he cared the most for in the world. He’d been robbed of his home, his sight, his purpose, and now his love was leaving him as well. What was going to be left of him once Gladio finally decided to cut his losses and leave Ignis alone? The only thing he could do was bury himself in his work running the town, the only place he still felt wanted and needed, and try to keep everything together; for Noct’s sake, if nothing else.

-

He was in the kitchen doing what he could to try and regain some of his lost cooking skill when he was startled by the sound of the door to their room being thrown against the wall and then slammed closed again. Heavy footfalls padded toward their shared bedroom without a word, and Ignis could practically smell the distress coming off his companion in waves. He set the knife he’d been using to chop vegetables for a simple stew back down onto the counter and listened to the cacophony of Gladio stopping his way around the small space before ending up under the frigid spray of their shared shower.

Something must be wrong.  Gladio and his team had been dispatched to Galdin Quay after receiving a distress call from Coctura saying the daemons were starting to overrun the area. Ignis had begged Gladio to let him go with them, but the larger man had shrugged him off, claiming that his fighting skills weren’t quite up to par for the danger level of the task and that he would be more useful staying behind.

Ignis had been grateful that the other man still apparently cared enough for safety to argue with him, but was also wall past the point of being tired of his infirmity holding him back from doing everything he could to help the survivors. It simply wasn’t in his nature to sit on the sidelines while others went out fight the battles, and it always filled him with guilt whenever he heard of a mission going awry when there might have been something he could have done to help.  With a heavy sigh he put some water on the burner for a pot of weak tea and tried to calm his mind while he waited for Gladio to get out of the shower so he could find out what happened.

-

In the shower, Gladio stood mechanically washing the grime caked on his skin from the two week long mission while trying his best to decompress his thoughts to prevent himself from taking his frustrations of the past couple days out on Ignis. It sounded childish, but he wished more than anything that things would just go the way they were supposed to for _once_ so he didn’t have to keep returning home with terrible news.

He slammed his fist into the shower wall and hung his head, letting the water wash away any tears he may or may not be shedding while he tried to think of the easiest way to break it to his companion that more of their friends had been lost. There was just no simple way of bringing back news that he had failed, again.

-

Out in the front room Ignis quickly finished the last of the preparations for the simple soup he had planned for dinner that night and left everything in the pot to simmer. He had just finished putting some extra water on the burner for cups of hot tea when he heard the pounding coming from the back bedroom.

He crept as quietly as he could to the bathroom door and pressed a careful ear against it, listening for any signs of obvious distress before intruding on his lover in a panic as he would have done before things between them had gotten so strained. For a while he heard nothing but the steady stream of the shower and was about to knock and call out before he finally heard the unmistakable sounds of Gladio’s gravelly voice muttering something to himself along with some tell-tale sniffling.

Ignis felt his heart plummet down in his chest and he slumped down against the door as he continued listening to one of the people he loved most in the world suffer privately inside the walls of the shower. There was nothing but a door between them, but it might as well have been an ocean with how distant he felt. He was at a complete loss for how to help Gladio out of whatever funk he was in when the other man wouldn’t even talk to him.

He sat outside the door until the shower turned off, just in case, then slowly returned to the kitchen to finish brewing the tea and check on his meal, hoping that when Gladio got himself together they’d be able to talk.

-

It was quite a while before Gladio emerged from the back bedroom, dressed in nothing but a pair of old sweats and thankfully only still carrying a small fraction of the distress he’d walked in the door with. Ignis was doing everything in his power to keep from fussing over his lover and kept his attention pointedly directed on his soup instead as he carefully added the last few flavoring spices and stirred them into the mixture.

“Smells good,” Gladio commented as he passed, voice thick with poorly concealed emotion. Ignis hummed and tilted his head in the other man’s direction as he plopped himself down in one of the chairs around the small dining room table with a heavy sigh.

“Thank you,” he called softly over his shoulder, “it will be ready momentarily. Would you like some tea?” Gladio grunted an affirmative, as Ignis suspected he would, so he brought over the still steaming cup he’d prepared to his exact specifications just moments before. Gladio grunted again in thanks and sipped from it silently as he waited for the food to finish.

As promised, it didn’t take long before Ignis was setting a bowl and spoon down in front of him with a cautious smile, “Do tell me how you like it, and don’t spare my feelings or I’ll never improve.”

Gladio waited until Ignis sat down with his own bowl before slowly raising the spoon to his lips to sample the offering.

“It’s good,” he said simply before lowering it again to aimlessly stir the contents of the bowl. Ignis frowned and picked up his own spoon.

Gladio didn’t seem at all interested in the food, though it had taken considerable time and effort for him to be able to produce. It wasn’t nearly up his normal standard, and was suffering from a lack of fresh ingredients, but it was still better than anything else he’d attempted thus far. He’d been hoping to at least get a small smile out of the larger man after weeks of being kept on the terrible hunter’s rations but it seemed even that was too much to expect.

They spent most of the meal in silence, both picking at the food more than eating it, until Ignis’ concern brimmed over and he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” he asked softly, trying to contain his frustration. Gladio hung his head and pushed his bowl away with a sigh.

“I was trying to wait until after dinner,” he muttered to the ground.

“It seems neither of us are doing much eating anyhow, shall we move somewhere more comfortable?”

Without waiting for an answer Ignis stood and collected the unfinished bowls of soup and walked back into the kitchen. He dumped what they hadn’t eaten back into the pot and set the dishes aside for later. After rinsing his hands he took his own cup of tea over to their modest living room where Gladio had already positioned himself on their small couch.

Ignis sat down next him, keeping a bit of space between them as Gladio seemed incredibly uncomfortable with his mere presence. Another long silence stretched between them as Gladio fidgeted trying to come up with the right words before he finally just gave up on complicated explanations and blurted out, “Galdin’s gone.”

Now it was Ignis’ turn to sigh heavily and slump his shoulders with the weight of the news. Galdin hadn’t been much of a town after the long night set in, but the people who stayed behind to defend it were some of the most loyal and passionate. What was once an area dedicated to decadence and relaxation became the last bastion of hope for many who used to frequent the once beautiful area, and its loss was felt just a little more strongly than the news of the many other fallen outposts. He swallowed heavily as Gladio continued the report.

“When we got there most of the people were already lost. We managed to fight off the onslaught of daemons and save the few that were still kicking but three of our own went down in the process. Coctura got out but Dino…” he paused to swipe a large hand down his face as his frame shuddered with the memory, “All that was left of him was that tacky suit.”

Gladio deflated after he was done. He slouched forward and buried his face in his hands, not wanting to see the shock and sadness cross Ignis’ face after hearing of the loss. He also didn’t want to risk being objected to any possible looks of disappointment that they had once again been too late to prevent the worst from happening. He knew Ignis wouldn’t be vicious enough to call him out directly, but over their many years spent together in such close proximity he’d learned to tell what the other man was thinking with just a look alone, and even that was too much for him to bare.

Ignis, for his part, wasn’t actually reacting much at all. He digested the information slowly, and as much as it did sting to hear of the world literally going to hell around them, he only found himself thankful. Thankful that they’d not yet suffered a loss he’d be unable to recover from; thankful that he still had Gladio with him. It was selfish, but with the world in its current state he’d resolved early not to take every death to heart or risk crumbling under the weight of the dying world on his shoulders, as Gladio seemed to be doing now.

Slowly, he shifted himself closer to the grieving giant beside him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He half expected it to be shoved off, but was able to breathe a sigh of relief when Gladio leaned into his touch and shifted around awkwardly so he could pillow his head on Ignis’ lap as he always did when he was upset.

Ignis automatically brought an ungloved hand to Gladio’s still damp hair and began to slowly stroke it, humming softly in hope that it would soothe him even a little. It was obvious now that recent events were hitting his love harder than he’d been letting on and he certainly wasn’t doing himself any favors by shutting out the one person around to offer him any sort of comfort. At the rate he was going he was on the fast track to letting his mind get the best of him in battle, a thought that made Ignis’ stomach clench with worry.

Gladio was mostly oblivious to Ignis’ quiet distress on his behalf. He’d buried his head in his lover’s lap, relishing in his calming ministrations and allowing himself, for the moment, to take the comfort he so desperately needed, though still didn’t feel that he deserved. He was so far gone into the self-deprecating headspace that he almost wished for the opposite, that Ignis would push him away and yell at him for failing in his duty like Gladio had so unfairly done to both him and their Prince what now felt like a lifetime ago.

He looked rolled himself over and looked up into Ignis’ face, still beautiful despite the intensive scarring, and saw nothing but genuine love and concern. It was too much for him to handle. With a miserable groan, he sat up and moved back across the couch, again pulling away from the man he loved.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Iggy,” he whispered sadly, head hung low.

Ignis felt his own blood freeze inside his veins. Whether Gladio was speaking of the relief efforts or their relationship, a signal that he was about to give up was the last thing he ever wanted to hear. He took a shaky breath and silently gave him his full attention, signaling for him to elaborate.

“I can’t keep failing like this; I’m letting everyone down. What happens when I go back out there and it’s Prompto that I’m too late to save this time….or Iris? What good is a Shield that doesn’t provide defense? Nothing. I’m supposed to be taking the hits for the people who can’t protect themselves, and instead I’m here shining like a new Gil while everything else falls apart.”

Gladio knew he was rambling at this point, but once he’d given the hint at his weakness everything just came spilling out. He went on and on, listing every failure, every instance where he’d failed to stand against their opposition that resulted in someone else getting hurt in the process. Ignis sat wordlessly next him, patiently listening as he laid himself out for judgment.

When he finally ran out of things to say he slowly peered over at Ignis, ready to face anything he had to say against him. It was what he truly wanted; what he deserved. What he was not expecting was for Ignis to take a single, calming, breath then quickly reach over and slap him right across the face, _hard_.

The blow nearly sent him tumbling off the couch, his reflexes saving him in the last second, and he was more than impressed with the blind man’s perfect aim. He righted himself and gaped at Ignis, now panting from the effort of controlling his rage. He shot a pointed glare at Gladio that pinned him to the spot, sightless or not, and the larger man couldn’t help but to flinch under its intensity.

“Gladiolus Amicitia, I never thought that you, of all people, could be _stupid_ or _selfish_ enough to ever entertain the idea that the misfortune that’s fallen upon us the past few months is, in any way _, your fault_ ,” the words left his mouth as a bitter hiss that had Gladio curling into himself in shame. Ignis let another silence fall over them as he willed himself to calm down. His anger, apparently, is what Gladio had wanted, though probably not with the same reasoning, and he wasn’t going to let himself fall prey and give in to his absurd desire for a punishment he hadn’t earned.

“Look at me,” he demanded after the worst of his anger had subsided. Gladio couldn’t help but wonder how exactly Ignis always knew where his gaze was when he couldn’t even see it. He slowly brought his eyes back to Ignis’ face to find the rage now smoldering under the surface of his features and mixing with something like compassion. He again reached his hand toward Gladio’s face, though this time instead of hitting him, he tenderly cupped his cheek and started to speak again in a much softer tone.

“Gladio, there was absolutely nothing you could have done to prevent what happened to any of us. As I’ve come to understand, it was all orchestrated from the start by the Chancellor, who is nothing as he appears to be. You’re one of the best warriors in the world, but even you weren’t trained to fight smoke or some Astrals ordained prophecy; nobody was. Unfair doesn’t even begin to describe the odds stacked against us, yet somehow, we’re still defying them and this is largely _because_ of you.

It was you who got Noctis out of his slump when the city fell, you who guarded our backs and kept us alive in the wilderness, you who risked your life fighting Gilgamesh _alone_ to better aid our cause, and you who got us all moving again when we were at our lowest. Without your aid we would have surely failed, and then what hope would the world have?

Noctis is trapped, for who knows how long, and it now falls to us to keep the world moving so he can save it, which I have the upmost confidence that he will do. Your only failure, Gladiolus, was keeping your own emotions buried so deep inside that you pushed us all away.”

Ignis said his peace and stroked his fingers lovingly down Gladio’s cheek to wipe away the few tears that had started to fall. Gladio looked up at him with watery eyes and then pulled him close to capture his amazing lips in the most desperate kiss they had ever shared, one that was long overdue.

In that single kiss he poured all his thanks. Thanks that they were still alive, that Ignis was still willing to put up with his single minded idiocy, that there really was hope for the future, that he still had plenty of reasons to keep fighting.

 Ignis gladly accepted everything he was offered and pressed back with equal fervor, thanking him for being their rock, for giving them every piece of himself, and for staying with him and loving him though he was now disfigured and impaired.

When they finally broke apart Gladio rested his head on Ignis’ shoulder and cried like he had never cried before. Through it all Ignis held him, rubbing small circles into his back, stroking his hair, and whispering gentle endearments into his ear. He cried until he was exhausted, everything finally catching up with him at once.

At some point Ignis leaned himself back against the arm of the couch and pulled Gladio on top of him, somehow managing to adjust them so he wasn’t crushed by his massive form. Gladio didn’t remember the repositioning, nor did he remember falling asleep in the loving embrace, and when he woke his body was sore all over and his head was throbbing painfully. He glanced up at Ignis’ peacefully sleeping face and decided it was the best he’d felt in a while.

Maybe something was okay after all.

 


End file.
